


Chapter X: Forget Me Not

by felinesandbeanies



Series: Love Trumps Hate [1]
Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, M/M, Trump, conversion camp
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-11
Updated: 2016-11-11
Packaged: 2018-08-30 09:02:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8527123
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/felinesandbeanies/pseuds/felinesandbeanies
Summary: “He doesn’t have to come out in one piece...metaphorically speaking,” Alexander sighed. “As long as he is back with me I--I just want to hold him. I know he’s terrified and I can’t help but feel like it’s all my fault. I should be the one there.” 
“How would it be your fault, Alexander?”
“He went there for me.”
 
OR
What would happen to John or Alexander if Trump approves of conversion camps





	

**Author's Note:**

> Be kind to one another.

John was in a new room of the facility. Everything, so far, has been good, nothing but the usual religious brainwashing which he could live through. He has learned the art of tuning everything out while still keeping his eyes look attentive. He almost laughs because he learned that trick when he had to sit and let Alexander practice his speeches on him for more than ten times ("You're good, Alexander." "One more!" "You said that five speeches ago."). He missed Alexander.

He was asked to remove his shirt before he sat down on the cool metal chair, goose flesh spreading across his skin. He felt like something was wrong, even more wrong than the fact that he was in a damned conversion camp. There was a large projector screen in front of him and he wondered why. 

"It will just be a check-up," the kind looking woman said. She was sticking on wired white patches on him and John knew what was going to happen to him. The woman seemed to have caught on to his look of comprehension and, yet again, smiled. "It will only hurt a little."

 

That was the moment he came to the conclusion that his father was not his father if he would send his own son to a conversion camp that used illegal methods besides ‘pray the gay away’. The man who he once worked hard for was now deemed just a mere stranger to him. There is only one man in his life now and that is Alexander Hamilton and the said man was back in their shared home that he will return to. 

**"If you're good, you can come back home sooner."**

And so John remained calm and perfectly still. John was not stupid and he knew how to act in this facility and that was to fake conformation. _Fake it 'til you make it_. He refused to move or be moved and he refused to think about anything but his happy place. Clouds. Sea. Turtles. Trees. Meadows. Alexander.

Alexander?

His eyes widened as he saw Alexander's photo being flashed on the screen. How did they get that and from where? Alexander was laughing in the photo, head thrown back in perfect laughter. How he wanted to touch him. Oh, those eyes. He missed those eyes. 

_Zap!_

John flinched at the sudden pulse of electrocution coursed through him. They were going to kill him, that's what they'll end up doing. They were going to literally electrocute the gay away. The first time that John has heard about it, he did not believe that it would do anything but now he's sure that this was the way he was going to go down. The only way they’ll turn him straight is if they kill him. They were going to succeed if they keep on going.

Alexander's photo changed and it was one of him in bed lying on his side with his hair splayed out. It was the first morning of them moving in together and he remembered how when he woke up he was so happy to finally--finally--have the knowledge that he had Alexander all to himself from then on. When John turned his head the morning that he woke up, he couldn't help but snap a picture because Alexander looked so---

_Zap!_

Another picture. It was a selfie of them when they visited Cold Stone, it was their favorite ice cream shop--well it was Alexander’s favorite while John forced himself to fall in love with it. John had his eyes closed as he kissed a laughing Alexander on the cheek. He remembered that photo they were--

_Zap!_

The next picture was one of Alexander wherein he was standing on a podium and his eyes were embers under the harsh glare of the sunlight. Those eyes--

_Zap!_

His eyes--

_Zap!_

His eyes?

_Zap!_

Eyes.

_Zap!_

Alexander's eyes.

_Zap!_

Alexander.

_Zap!_

For you, Alexander.

 

_Zap!_

 

I love you

_Zap!_

You.

_Zap!_

You.

_Zap!_

You.

* * *

Thomas Jefferson considered himself as someone who was level-headed and heartless--not exactly heartless but he would never pry or ask ‘how are you’, honestly, to hell with ‘how are you’s. To hell with Hamilton. He tried to stop himself from looking at Hamilton all day as he typed heavy handedly on his desktop. One day, Hamilton storms into their shared office (Also, to hell with Washington.) and gives Jefferson an itemized list of his typos on twitter then the next day Hamilton _drags his feet_ towards his chair and sits there quietly. 

 

He ignores it. 

 

He is Thomas Jefferson so he ignores it. But, today, he couldn’t--wouldn’t. He refused to let this go on. He doesn’t _care_ about Alexander per se but--but what?

 

Thomas has never seen Alexander look so despondent, eyes that were once alight are now dull and dead, but that wasn’t the most mind boggling difference. The biggest difference was seen with they way he type. He typed slower and deleted more than he created. Alexander would stare at the screen for hours on end then he would come up blank. Thomas has never seen the man look more broken than he did. 

 

“Tell me,” Thomas snapped. “What is wrong with you?” 

 

Alexander hummed. “Just tired.” 

 

Not even a snappy argument, not even a glance.

 

Thomas stared, then rolled his eyes so hard that it almost gave him a migraine. “Bullshit.” He storms towards the man, shutting the lid of the man’s laptop with uncontrolled force. “You type slower and you never debate shit anymore. Is something wrong or has you mind finally gone senile?” 

 

Alexander raised his head to glare at him. _Finally_. “What’s it to you? Why do you care?” 

 

“I don’t not care about you, Hamilton,” Thomas said through gritted teeth. How it hurt to say those words. “But, honestly, this shithole workplace isn’t as fun without your stupid ideas.” 

 

“It’s none of your fucking business,” Alexander snarled. “Just leave me the fuck alone, Jefferson.” 

 

“Alexander,” Thomas sighed. Alexander looked at him then, more confused than outraged. “Fine. You know what? Fine. But if you need anything--” he lost his words. “If you need anything.” 

 

“He was sent to a conversion camp.” 

 

Thomas paled. “Excuse me?” 

 

Alexander balled his fists. “Senator Henry Laurens sent John to a gay camp.” 

 

“How...” 

 

“I don’t know if he’ll make it out alright.” Thomas has never seen Alexander cry before and he thought it would bring him pleasure, but it didn’t. He only felt his heart grow heavy. “I don’t know if he’ll even...”

 

“Laurens is a strong man,” Thomas said, tone of finality. “He’ll be fine.” 

 

“For how long?” Alexander clawed his face and Thomas has the urge to stop him but remained in his spot. “Two weeks. Will he even still love me? Will he still be...John?” 

 

Thomas couldn’t just stand still then. He went beside Alexander and carefully wrapped an arm around his shoulders. It was such an unfamiliar action. “Whatever that got him in there is strong enough to get him out of there in...” he can’t say one piece. “...in--” 

 

“He doesn’t have to come out in one piece...metaphorically speaking,” Alexander sighed. “As long as he is back with me I--I just want to hold him. I know he’s terrified and I can’t help but feel like it’s all my fault. I should be the one there.” 

 

“How would it be your fault, Alexander?”

 

“He went there for me.”

 

Thomas felt like cold water had hit him in the face right then and there. “Excuse me?” 

 

“His father found out about us and we’ve been so good at hiding it, Thomas--” Thomas feels a tug, Alexander has never used his first name before, especially, not with that tone. “--four years together and we’ve never been caught. Well the tyrant found out and threatened John and I with some bullshit I don’t even care to list. Violent exchange, John almost hit him but I stopped him and then an ultimatum. If John can prove that he is still gay after attending a conversion camp then Henry will disown him and leave us alone.” 

 

“How bad were his threats?” 

 

“Unearth my mother and throw her remains in the trash or shut down all the orphanages I am affiliated with,” Alexander sighed. “And another one was that he’ll ruin George Washington’s reputation with false accusations. We all know how the people work, as long as someone is black then...then...” 

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“John wanted to put an end to it so he agreed,” Alexander said. “He didn’t even ask _me_ that fucking bastard I--when he comes I’ll--” 

 

Thomas feels Alexander shake. “Hush, Alexander. He will come back to you as your John no matter what.” 

 

Alexander buried his face in his hands, defeated. “He will.”

 

Thomas held him tighter. “He _will_.”

* * *

John looked at his food, unsure. He looked around him and they all seemed to be okay but there was this inkling feeling at the pit of his stomach. If there was one food that was safe here then it was probably the packaged pudding since it was obviously store bought and probably the only thing he knows will kill him due to diabetes and not because of some random ‘gay away’ powder.

 

“Don’t eat that,” a voice whispered. 

 

John looked up to the boy who was hunched over his food and gaunt. “What?”

 

“You think it’s not contaminated?” The boy said, snorting. “It’s the only thing contaminated, they want to trick you.”

 

John gave him a look. “Why should I trust you?” 

 

The boy shrugged. “Why should you, indeed.” 

 

John pushed his tray away from himself. He has lost his appetite.

* * *

“Not here.” 

 

Those were the first words out of John’s mouth when Alexander came to pick him up and it _stung_. He understood the meaning of his words but the way John looked at him or even gravitated towards him wasn’t the same. It was very sadistic of Henry Laurens to tell Alexander to pick up his son from the fucking conversion camp just so Alexander could witness that his John wasn’t the same anymore. Thomas fucking Jefferson had fed him lies again and, like a fool, he believed him. He shouldn’t have done that. 

 

Alexander felt himself deflate, ready to lose this man in front of him. Would it have been better if Henry kept tormenting them with threats? “I--let’s take you to your father. He’s just waiting close by.” 

 

“Alright,” John said, voice airy.

 

The drive there was silent, save for Alexander who was taking deep breaths so that he wouldn’t cry. He was white knuckling the steering wheel, trying to avoid that thing his hand did wherein it would unconsciously reach over to hold John’s hand. They should have been more careful, should have been more evasive. They should have moved to California wherein there were laws against conversion camps. 

 

They arrived faster than Alexander would have wanted to. It was a dingy coffee shop and Alexander had no idea why Henry would even choose this place. John didn’t spare Alexander a glance as they walked into the venue and Alexander has never felt so cold during summer before. It hurt. He didn’t expect it to hurt this much.

 

“My son,” Henry said proudly, a smug look sent towards Alexander. “You look like a changed person, no, a changed _man_. You look like yourself.”

 

And it disgusted Alexander so much that he couldn’t quite help himself. “He was John Laurens he was _himself_ even before you sent him to that god awful place. Is this what you wanted? A son you had to _abuse_.” 

 

“I didn’t abuse him.” 

 

“Well, you practically did!” Alexander snarled and maybe this dingy place was chosen because it lacked customers and it bodes well with how Alexander was currently reacting. “You may not have blood on your hands but it was still all you. If not for your threats--if not for you...” 

 

Henry cocked a brow. “If not for me?”

 

Alexander choked. “If not for you then he would still be John. He would have been safe with me.” 

 

“Safe?” Henry snorted. “You call HIV and a sin against God, _safe_?” 

 

“I didn’t fucking electrocute him so that he’d be the perfect image of the son I’ve always wanted,” Alexander spat, glaring at the red marks on John’s arms. “I showered him with more love than you could ever offer him.” 

 

“Might I have something to say, father.” And, oh god, the way he talked was different too. 

 

Henry smiled at this, pleased. “Go on. Tell him off.”

 

Alexander felt John grab the collar of his shirt, he was ready to cry and he was ready for John to punch him and call him a faggot. John then broke his facade, glaring at his father icily then kissed Alexander on the lips with all the pent up sanity he had kept within him whilst he was in that facility. He backed away from Alexander seconds later to look at his father again. “Fuck you.” 

 

 

 

 

+++

 

(Three months of recovery for John and Three months of working from home for Alexander)

 

“What did you do while I was gone?” John asked, absentmindedly raking his fingers through Alexander’s hair. He was okay now, he could speak freely about what had happened without the fear of breaking down. It took Alexander all of his strength to be strong for the both of them, but it was worth it.

 

It took a few days for John to actually properly touch him again. John claimed that whenever he touched Alexander, he felt like there was a pulse of electricity going through him. Can you imagine having some sort of trauma from touching your own boyfriend? One day, John had enough and practically lunged at Alexander. _We’ll pretend it’s the good kind of sparks_ John had said.

 

“Waited for you to come back,” Alexander said, mimicking Patrick Star’s voice.

 

John snorted. “Of course you did, my Alexander.” 

 

“Well, Thomas Jefferson comforted me while I was crying,” Alexander said. “It was really the weirdest thing that happened to me.” 

 

“Remind me to give him something as a thank you,” John quipped, chuckling. 

 

Alexander hummed. “Give him a fruit basket, everyone loves those.” 

 

John laughed, hard. “I love you, Alexander.” 

 

“I know and I--” 

 

“You don’t understand,” John said, shaking his head. “Not enough electrocutions or food poisoning in that god damned place can ever make me forget you. I can’t ever forget you. I love you so much, my Alexander. If it weren’t for you, I would have actually died there.” 

 

Alexander gave him a shaky smile. “You made it out on your own. You were strong and I’m so sorry I ever had to put you through that. I’m so sorry. I’ll protect you--” Alexander moved to wrap him in a hug. “I promise I’ll protect you better from now on.” 

 

“Just don’t die trying,” John quipped but Alexander knew that there was truth and worry behind his words. The world was a dangerous place after all. “Nothing in this world can take you away from me.” 

 

Alexander agreed. “Nothing.”

**Author's Note:**

> Raise awareness, never let hate consume you. Love trumps hate!


End file.
